


Amalgamation

by airebellah



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Age Difference, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anal Sex, Breeding Kink, Crying, Developing Relationship, Drunk Sex, Dry Humping, Established Relationship, First Time, Frottage, Jealousy, M/M, Older Man/Younger Man, Overstimulation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Possessive Behavior, Pregnancy Kink, Rough Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Topping from the Bottom, Voyeurism, compilation of requests from tumblr, some might be underage? but I will add warnings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-06
Updated: 2019-01-02
Packaged: 2019-07-25 18:13:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16202930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/airebellah/pseuds/airebellah
Summary: Compilation of requests from tumblr (on-going)1) Sex at disney world2) Peter's first time seeing an uncut cock3) Possessive/jealous Tony at a party4) Peter is seriously injured5) Sex with the car's partition down6) Peter webs Tony, topping from the bottom7) Dry humping8) A/B/O





	1. Sex at Disney World

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone on tumblr asked if I could add more of my writing on ao3, since a lot of it I only post on tumblr. I'm going to be throwing all my shorter works into here, so each chapter will be a different request.
> 
> Chapters may have their own warnings, so check just in case. Mostly it'll just be smut, haha. 
> 
> Request: "Can you do a story of tony taking peter to all the Disney parks and fucking him there?" (I've never been to Disney World, so... I tried my best). Warnings for public sex.

Peter didn’t normally like things that emphasized his young age, since he knew it could still be a sore spot for Tony. But when Tony offered to take him to Disney World, Peter couldn’t resist. For the first few rides, he tried to tone down his excitement; but then Tony smiled, slinging an arm around Peter’s shoulders as he whispered, “Enjoy yourself, sweetie.” It felt like permission to indulge in his childish enthusiasm, even if the tabloids would likely have a field day with Tony Stark taking his barely-legal “boy toy” to an amusement park.

Peter dragged his boyfriend to Space Mountain, Splash Mountain, Expedition Everest **.** It turned out Tony was a big leery of heights despite his time as Iron Man, though the man insisted it was only because he didn’t trust engineering that was not his  _ own.  _ They took the Stars Tour, and Peter broke into laughter at the sight of the big, white, walkie-thingies (it turns out they were actually called AT-ATs).

He filled himself to bursting with Nutella waffles, beignets, poutine, churros, caramel popcorn. A few fans asked Tony for pictures, most of them little kids, and it always warmed Peter’s heart to see his boyfriend soften around children. But overall, most people were so drawn to the attractions and costumed workers, no one really noticed Tony Stark dressed down in a casual tee and oversized sunglasses.

 

They were standing in line for Haunted Mansion -- Tony had offered to flash the workers his famous smile and get in quicker, but they decided not to draw any more attention to themselves -- when the man began to get a little  _ handsy.  _ He pulled Peter to his chest, hands sliding under the teen’s shirt to run over his stomach as he gently rolled his hips against the teen’s ass.

“Tony,” Peter warned as he squirmed in the man’s grip. “What’re you doing?”

Tony’s teeth snapped at his ear. “Let’s go somewhere a little more private.”

Peter let himself be dragged out of line and through the park. He felt a sting of guilt every time a Mickey Mouse or Cinderella waved merrily at them, not knowing Tony was in search of a private area to fuck.

“No, Tony!” Peter hissed as he realized the man was dragging him to a washroom. “There’re too many people!”

“Just play it cool, baby,” Tony murmured as he pulled Peter toward the line up. “You’ll get in line. I’ll let a few people get between us. Text me what stall you’re in and leave it unlocked. Okay?”

For the record, it was a terrible plan and no one should ever let Tony Stark in charge of anything. And yet Peter found himself slipping into line, nervously fidgeted as he looked around, half-expecting security to haul him off the park grounds just for  _ thinking _ about this.

By some miracle (maybe it was a sign, some sort of weird, cosmic permission?), he got the last stall at the far end. He quickly texted Tony as he entered, debating for a moment before crouching on the seat just to be safe. He got a warning message --  _ It’s just me  _ \-- a second before the door was slowly pushed open.

Tony slipped inside, sliding the lock into place while staring at Peter with a predatory grin. “C’mere, sweet thing,” he said as he took a step into the small space.

“No talking!” Peter whispered, begrudgingly let his feet settle on the ground as he stood from the dropped-down toilet seat.

“Can I just tell you how fucking adorable you’ve looked all day in these?” Tony asked, flicking the plastic Mickey Mouse ears adorning Peter’s head. “Makes me want to eat you up.”

Peter groaned, surging up to pull Tony into a kiss. The man tugged him around, pushing him against the wall as Peter hitched a leg over his hip. It was no time at all before they were panting, cocks straining and hips rubbing together furiously.

“Pete, I’m not leaving until you’re filled with my come,” Tony warned.

Peter bit his lip against a moan as he rutted furiously against his boyfriend. “Jus- just be quick,” he agreed. “And quiet!”

In no time at all, Peter’s jeans and boxers were pulled down mid-thigh, his legs wrapped around Tony’s waist, exposed ass hitting the cold wall as Tony fucked him. He buried his face in Tony’s throat, biting down to keep from crying out. His fingers scrambled desperately at the man’s shirt, while Tony’s hands gripped his shoulders to keep him from noisily jostling.

“Do you think they can hear us?” Tony grunted, resting Peter’s back against the wall so he could thrust up even harder. “I mean, Jesus, Pete, I’m fucking you at a park meant for  _ kids.” _

Peter had to replace Tony’s throat with his fist, teeth grinding into bone as his eyes watered. He could feel the muscles in his back and pelvis begin to contract, his balls seizing up, realizing his cock was pressed into Tony’s shirt --  _ shit, it’s going to stain -- _ just a second before his orgasm hit him. His head thunked back against the wall, entirely too loudly to not have been overheard, as Tony pumped into him a few more times, burying his groan in Peter’s hair as he came.

Peter stumbled out of the stall a few minutes later, trying to straighten the crooked Mickey Mouse headband as he headed for the sink.

“Oh, uh,” he stuttered as the next guest made his way to the stall. “It’s out of order, actually.”

The man eyed Peter up and down for a second, as Peter tried his best at an innocent smile. Eventually he shrugged, walking back to the entrance to wait for a different stall to open up.

Tony made sure to wait a few minutes before emerging, when none of the new guests in line would recognize Peter had come from the same stall moments ago.

The stains on his shirt, thankfully, resembled vanilla ice cream.


	2. First Uncircumcised Penis..

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: Starker, peter's never seen an uncut cock before, and is fascinated by tony's, and how sensitive it keeps his cock
> 
> (I've never seen one either, welp, I hope my portrayal is okay)

_ “Oh.” _

“Wow,” Tony muttered as he rolled his eyes. “That is  _ not _ the reaction I was expecting.”

“It’s, I, I wasn’t,” Peter stammered, trying to explain before Tony could start re-dressing. “I mean, I haven’t seen one like…  _ that  _ before. It’s all covered up!”

Tony’s tight expression pulled into a frown. “Wait, you’re telling me you’ve never seen an uncircumcised dick?”

Peter shook his head as he slowly walked closer, head tilted to the side in curiosity. “Can I touch it?”

Tony snorted. “That was sort of the plan, kid.”

 

Tony stretched out on the bed, hands resting behind his head as Peter settled between his legs. The teen was still half-dressed, too eager to start his exploration to realize. At the first touch, Peter gasped and withdrew his hand. He stared up at Tony, startled, as he said, “It  _ moves!” _

Tony chuckled, secretly thankful he had decades of self-confidence to deal with Peter’s trepidation without taking a blow to his ego. “That’s the foreskin, Pete. You can pull it back.”

Although his ego wasn’t taking a blow, his erection sure had; he was mostly flaccid as he took his cock in his hand and stroked back in illustration.

“Woah,” Peter murmured, sounding slightly mesmerized. His head rested on Tony’s thigh, nose barely an inch away from Tony’s cock. “Can I try?”

Tony closed his eyes as he let Peter touch and stroke and examine. The gentle fondling probably could have put him to sleep, in all honesty, until suddenly his cock was wrapped up in a warm, wet heat.

“Fuck, Pete,” Tony groaned as his hand instinctively gripped the boy’s curls. He was still only half-hard, so the boy gently sucked and bobbed his head up and down until Tony was fully erect and gently thrusting into his mouth.

And then he pulled away, much to Tony’s annoyance.

“Woah, where’d it go?” Peter gasped as he inspected Tony’s cock with wide eyes.

“The foreskin?” Tony grumbled, unsubtly tugging Peter’s mouth closer to him once more. “It retracts when you get hard.”

“Oh.” Peter frowned at the newly exposed head before glancing up at Tony. “But now you look normal - I mean, not  _ normal.”  _ His quick backtracking characteristically devolved into apologetic babbling. “You’re not, like,  _ abnormal,  _ I really shouldn’t have said that! Um, sir, I just meant you look more like me now - and I know I’m not, uh, the authority on what’s normal or not-”

“Pete,” Tony interrupted sternly, letting his fingers untangle from Peter’s curls to pat the boy’s head reassuringly. “It’s okay, I know what you meant. Now let’s get a move on, yeah?”

Peter was a very enthusiastic giver of oral sex, especially when he realized he didn’t have to swallow Tony down his throat and fight off his gag reflex. He adapted quickly to the feeling of the motion of the skin along Tony’s shaft, eagerly pumping up and down as he sucked on Tony’s head or licked his way down to the man’s balls.

“Such a good boy for me, Pete,” Tony groaned as he felt his impending release. His fingers tightened in Peter’s hair, knowing the boy was likely greedy to swallow down his come. “I’m so proud of you, fuck, my good boy.”

Peter moaned at the words, pumping and sucking even faster until Tony was shooting down his throat. He obediently lapped at Tony’s head until he could be sure absolutely ever drop was swallowed down, obscenely licking his lips before crawling up Tony’s prone form.

“So, how was your first uncut cock?” Tony asked with a smirk.

Peter blushed, shyly burying his face in Tony’s shoulder. “Good,” he replied. He seemed content to simply lie there until suddenly he was jumping up, staring at Tony with his mouth agape. “Wait, is it going to feel different when you fuck me, sir?”

Tony chuckled, pulling Peter back down onto his chest. “We’ll have to find out, sweetie.” When Peter began to rub his crotch against Tony eagerly, the man tutted. “In a little bit, kid. I can’t get hard again that fast.”

This time when Peter looked up at him, the boy was sporting a coy grin. “Is that a challenge, Mr. Stark?”

Peter was never one to turn down a challenge.


	3. Possessive/Jealous Tony

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Combination of two requests:
> 
> Anonymous asked: Can I send you a request? Peter getting aggressively hit on at a party and Tony getting really overprotective. Showing Peter who he belongs to later on? <3
> 
> Anonymous asked: I hope this is something you would like to write, but how about angry/possessive Tony? Maybe someone hitting on Peter at a business part and he fights them

Peter had been to a few fancy parties before, but never as Tony’s official  _ boyfriend.  _ Nothing changed, really - at least not between the two of them. Tony still walked the room with Peter on his arm, still rubbed the teen’s back as they laughed at an investor’s inane joke, still whispered dirty promises in his ear when no one was looking.

No, the changes came from everyone  _ else.  _ Peter couldn’t be sure if it was because their relationship was now public, or because of his newly legal status.

Tony had warned him, of course, that people might treat him differently. That men and women alike may try to flirt with him, entice him, lure him away. Peter had shrugged it off; mostly because everyone would know he was  _ Tony’s,  _ and who would try to steal from Iron Man?

A few people, as it turned out.

The women were mostly harmless, and seemed more interested in sharing Tony with him than indulging in a tryst with Peter alone. The men, though -- they made him nervous. Not too nervous; he was Spider-Man after all. Even if he couldn’t reveal himself, he felt assured in knowing he could easily overpower any one of them.

All of them were around Tony’s age or even older, though none held even one hundredth of Tony’s charm, wit, or looks.

Politely disengaging himself from a conversation with an executive-something, he slipped from beneath the man’s arm before it could wind around his shoulders, and stumbled toward the bar. His Coke was not even a halfway through when someone sidled up beside him and said, “Rough night?”

Peter had to smother down a groan as he turned toward the voice. To his surprise, it wasn’t a sleazy, middle-aged businessman leaning against the counter. It was actually a guy around his own age, maybe a few years older, and sporting a sympathetic smile.

“Sorry to bother you when you obviously want to be alone,” the man apologized. “But my date paid for the whole night, and I’m going out of my mind.”

“You’re paid to be here?” Peter asked as the man settled into the barstool beside him.

“Oh, like your pockets aren’t lined with Stark’s money?” he goaded. 

Peter’s jaw clenched in a snarl as the hand holding his drink began to tremble. “We’re dating,” he seethed. “It’s not  _ like _ that-”

“Shit, sorry,” the man disrupted, hands raised in surrender. “That was a fucked up thing to say. Look, my date slipped off twenty minutes ago with a girl even younger than  _ me,  _ and the sharks have been swarming since.”

The tension in Peter’s limbs eased as he nodded understandingly. “I know what you mean. Mr. Stark - uh, Tony - left for an emergency meeting with Ms. Potts. I think my ass has been grabbed at least three times since!”

The guy burst into raucous laughter before blurting, “Shit, I shouldn’t laugh!”

Peter couldn’t help but chuckle himself. His companion waved the bartender over for another order. As the worker left to prepare the drinks, he said, “I’ve got you beat.  _ My  _ ass has been stroked, pinched, and slapped at least a dozen times -- and once, Mr. Belvis’ hand ‘accidentally’ brushed against my crotch. He practically unzipped my fly!”

“Oh no,” Peter groaned. “You mean the one with that ratty toupee?”

“If by  _ ratty,”  _ the man said. “You mean actually  _ made _ from rat hair -- then yes, that’s the one!”

The two were almost crying with laughter when two drinks appeared before them. Another Coke for Peter, and a few inches of clear liquid poured over ice for the other.

“I’m Peter, by the way,” the teen introduced belatedly.

“Oh, I know. Everyone knows you,” the man said with a grin. “You can call me Jake.”

Peter took a sip, planning on asking what Jake meant by ‘everyone knows,’ when a slightly tangy flavour filled his mouth. He could barely taste the sweetness of the pop, the liquor was so overpowering.

“Is there alcohol in this?” he whispered, after forcing himself to swallow the mouthful. “I’m not old enough to drink!”

“Relax,” Jake soothed, pushing the drink closer to Peter’s chest. “You’re with  _ Tony Stark. _ You have full immunity.”

The two commisserated over their terrible experiences that night,and as Peter’s glass emptied, their laughs devolved into full-blown giggles. Peter’s lips felt tingly and his head spun pleasantly as he leaned toward Jake.

“Steady there,” Jake murmured. His arm, which was slung along the back of Peter’s stool, shifted to rest against Peter’s back. “All good, pretty boy?”

Peter giggled. “That’s - Tony calls me pretty. A lot.”

“Oh?” Jake said, fingers dancing along Peter’s spine. “Probably because you are.”

“He is, isn’t he?”   
Jake’s arm withdrew so fast, he accidentally knocked Peter’s shoulder, causing the teen to almost fall off his stool.

“Tony!” Peter cried happily, stumbling a little as he got to his feet. “You’re back!”

“And not a moment too soon, I see,” Tony said darkly as he pulled Peter into his arms. With his face pressed into Tony’s open collar, Peter missed Jake’s nervous gulp. “This is the last SI party you’ll ever be attending.”

“Huh?” Peter asked blearily, pushing out of Tony’s grip until he could look up at the man’s face. He realized Tony was glaring, not at him, but at Jake. “Oh, Tony, he was just keeping me company while you were gone.”

“I know what he was doing,” Tony snapped. 

Peter wasn’t entirely sure how he went from being in Tony’s arms to being shoved up against the bar. His head narrowly avoided colliding with the countertop, though his spine took the brunt of it. He glanced over at Jake, who looked equally shocked, before his chin was roughly tugged forward. “Don’t fucking touch my property,” Tony warned as he stared down at Peter.

“I’m not your-” was all Peter managed to protest before Tony’s mouth was on him. The kiss was painful, with Peter’s lips grinding into his teeth before being roughly sucked into Tony’s mouth. As Tony’s tongue laved at his jaw, Peter eagerly tipped his head back. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Jake awkwardly trying to sneak away.

“Don’t fucking move,” Tony growled between eye-watering bites to Peter’s neck. The teen closed his eyes, trying to ignore the increasing number of eyes watching them.

“Tony, I know, I’m yours,” he whispered desperately. “Please, can we-” he canted his hips against the man’s stomach. “I need you, take me somewhere private.”

Maybe if he had been in a more sober state, being dragged across a roomful of people with bruised lips, neck sporting teeth indents and still wet with saliva, and a very obvious erection poking through his dress pants, he may have felt a little embarrassed.

As it was, he couldn’t wait for the savage fucking he just  _ knew _ Tony was going to give him.


	4. Seriously injured Peter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Anonymous asked: Hey, how are you doing? I’m new to this starker ship but I really love your writing style. Can you maybe write something with Peter getting seriously injured during a mission or something and how Tony reacts to it? How he handles getting the news and such? Thank you!"
> 
> I'm not so great at writing angst for these two, haha.

As Tony sat beside Peter’s bedside, gaze flickering from Peter’s lax, pale face, his small body under the gauze and blankets, and the beeping heart monitor, he knew he would never forgive himself. He knew he didn’t _deserve_ forgiveness, nor did he want it.

His mind was racing with all the ways he could have prevented this. Peter didn’t like to wear the Iron-Spider suit on regular patrols, because he said it was too bulky and restrictive. And Tony, the _idiot_ that he was, had caved in the face of Peter’s doe-wide eyes and pouty lips. 

Peter’s patrol suit had 576 web-shooter combinations, and counting. It had an intuitive, maternal AI; heaters, coolers, trackers. But it wasn’t  _ bullet-proof _ _ ,  _ and even Peter’s ‘spidey-sense,’ as the boy named it, wasn’t enough for a rain of fire from multiple directions.

He hadn’t brought himself to watch the recorded footage from Peter’s suit just yet; his imagination alone of Peter’s pained shout at the impact was more than he could handle. He wasn’t ready for to hear it, hear Peter cry out for his mentor.

Tony was weak, and he knew he would have to do  _ better _ _.  _ But for now, Peter needed him; he and May had refused to leave the boy’s side, trading off on restless kips on the couch and only ever daring to leave for hurried trips to the bathroom.

That’s where May was now, and though Tony the admittance left him with the acidic tang of self-disgust, he was relieved at the momentary respite. May had stopped yelling at him. Now it was just silence, and he would have much preferred the yelling.

 

The second Peter’s eyes began to flicker as the influence of anesthesia faded, Tony was out the door and shouting for a doctor.

He moved back toward the room, fully intending to walk back in and take up his loyal seat by the bedridden boy’s side. But he froze. 

He remained as an apparition, spying as the doctor performed a few simple cognitive tests and explained the extent of the injuries to the young boy.

Peter’s voice was raspy and small at first, but with each new response, he grew firmer and more coherent. Tony shook his head softly, knowing the boy was trying so hard to stay strong, was probably worrying more about his aunt’s emotional state than his own physical condition.

He couldn’t go in. Even the doctor’s encouraging prognosis -- _It will be slow, even with your capabilities, but I believe you will make a full recovery_ \-- was not the relief it should have been.

As the doctor slipped out of the room, he paused before full shutting the door. “Would you like to go in, Mr. Stark?” he asked.

Tony’s lips parted into a curve, but the ‘no’ wouldn’t come out. He heard Peter’s voice, so small and painfully timid from inside the room. “May?” There was a pause, then, “Where’s Tony?”

“He just stepped out of the room, baby,” his aunt replied gently. “But he’s been by your side since you got out of surgery.”

It was the surprise in Peter’s voice that did him in. That incredulous little gasp of, “ _ Really _ ?”, like Peter genuinely couldn’t believe he was worth Tony’s time.

If it had been hard before, watching Peter’s lifeless body, it was even harder now somehow; seeing those wide eyes half-lidded with anesthesia, movements as slurred as his speech. It made the man ache for Peter’s usual bouncy, barely-contained energy.

“Hey, kiddo,” he greeted as he resumed his spot at the boy’s side.

He had hoped, privately, that Peter may have summoned the energy to grace him with a smile filled with reassurance Tony by no means deserved. Instead, he got a wobbly pout as Peter confessed, “I-I think I broke your suit, sir.”

“The suit means  _ nothing _ to me, Pete,” Tony promised fiercely. Squeezing Peter’s hand, he lifted it to press a kiss to the boy’s knuckles. “All I care about is  _ you _ _. _ Got it?”

Peter’s gaze flickered over to their joint hands before dragging back to Tony’s face. He nodded.

“Okay, baby,” May cut in. She forced a comforting smile as she ran her fingers through Peter’s curls. “Why don’t you get some more sleep?”

“Will you stay?” Peter asked. “Both of you?”

“Of course,” May promised as Tony said, “Sure thing, kid.”

The boy drifted off without another word to Tony rubbing circles into the back of his hand and May stroking his hair.


	5. Semi-Public Sex

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for sex while, well, someone watches. Possibly mildly dubious consent.
> 
> Anonymous asked: Starker sex in the back of the car with the partition down. Poor happy doesn't know where to look! Happy tries to raise the partition, but tony refuses to let him, because he loves humiliating Peter and is a total exhibitionist

Tony had recently begun joining Peter more often on the ride into Queens from the Tower. The backseat of the sedan was one of the few places they could fool around without the possibility of someone walking in on them.

Vision wasn’t a big fan of walls, after all.

Peter was currently straddling Tony’s waist, fingers buried in the man’s hair as his tongue thrust clumsily into Tony’s mouth. Tony’s hands were squeezing his hips, encouraging Peter to grind into him.

“Close the, mm, the partition,” Peter requested as he nibbled along Tony’s jaw. He loved when the man didn’t shave for a few days, causing his stubble to burn against Peter’s skin.

“Happy!” Tony snapped.

There was a whirring motion, followed by a loud creak.

“Sorry, boss,” Happy called back. “Still broken.”

Peter groaned as he released Tony’s earlobe from between his teeth. “Aw, man.”

“What do you think you’re doing?” Tony hissed as the teen braced to get up off his lap. “I’m not done with you yet, kid.”

“But he can hear us!” Peter whispered, glancing over his shoulder at the back of Happy’s head.

“Sweetie, you really think a thin piece of glass is going to make a difference?” Tony reasoned.

“W-wait, do you think he heard all those other times…?”

“Yup,” Happy reported from the front seat.

Peter’s jaw dropped in horror as Tony rolled his eyes. “Not helping,” he shot to Happy. Turning back to Peter, he pressed tempting, open-mouthed kisses to the boy’s cheeks. “C’mon, Pete. I need you.”

He guided Peter’s hips into a slow, circular motion. At first Peter simply let himself be led, not otherwise responding as Tony dragged kisses along his skin. But then Tony’s warm breath was puffing in his ear, followed by a slow swipe of his tongue, and Peter began to frot against Tony’s stomach in earnest.

Soon, any thoughts of Happy listening were forgotten; Tony had one hand wrapped around Peter’s cock, while he pumped two fingers into the boy’s hole. Peter was a wreck, writhing in Tony’s lap, smothering his needy cries against Tony’s neck.

Withdrawing his hands, Tony turned the boy around until he was sitting facing the back of the passenger seat. Even then, Peter didn’t remember at first; his eyes were squeezed shut in anticipation as he heard Tony slicking up his cock. His knees lined Tony’s thighs, and as soon as he felt the brush of hard, slippery skin against his hole, Peter sat back with a groan. Only when he was seated fully on Tony’s cock did his eyes fly open, and he gasped as his gaze landed on the wide-open partition.

“T-Tony!” he gasped.

Perhaps mistaking the urgency in his voice, the man grabbed Peter’s shoulders and started to pound into him. “Isn’t he so good?” Tony asked softly. One of his hands lifted to gently caress Peter’s cheek.

The question wasn’t actually directed at him, but before Peter could respond, he caught Happy’s gaze in the rearview mirror. “Ah, ah,” the boy whimpered with each thrust of Tony’s hips.

Happy merely grunted, as if entirely disinterested at the display, before his eyes returned to the road.

“Don’t be so shy, baby,” Tony crooned. He grabbed Peter’s wrists and tugged on the boy’s hands, in which he had buried his face out of shame. He whined as his bright-red cheeks and sweat-glistening forehead were on display once more. “Rest your hands on the seat while daddy fucks you. That’s a good boy,” he praised as Peter obediently reached out, digging his hands into the back of the leather seat before him.

He had to stretch to reach, pulling his stomach toward his thighs and giving Tony’s cock a deeper angle. Peter wanted nothing more than to bury his face into the material, smother his pathetic, humiliating moans, but he couldn’t reach.

As if reading his thoughts, Tony’s hand tangled in the boy’s hair and yanked him backward until he was flush against Tony’s chest. “Fuck yourself on daddy’s cock, baby.”

At that, Tony’s hips came to a halt. Peter whimpered, grinding his hips needily. All he received was a smack to his ass.

“Come on, you slut,” Tony taunted. “Show Happy what a needy little whore you are.”

Peter knew how cruel Tony could be; if he didn’t obey now, he would probably spend the rest of the night desperate and untouched. So he braced his feet on the floor and, still holding onto the seat before him for balance, Peter began to ride Tony’s cock. He soon lost himself in the sensation of simply being _filled_ by the man, of how amazing it felt to be so perfectly stretched; he forgot about Happy altogether as he arched his back to hit his prostate on every thrust.

“You’re doing so good,” Tony encouraged. His hands gripped Peter’s hips once more, urging the boy to go faster and harder. “Fuck, I want to fill you with my come, baby.”

“Please!” Peter cried out as his legs began to shake. “I’ve been so good, Tony.”

“What do you think?” Tony asked. His hand wrapped around Peter’s throat, applying no pressure, but gently tipping the boy’s head back as if to display him. “Has he been good?”

Peter silently cringed as Happy’s gaze fell upon him once more. The man sized him up, from the sweat dampening his curls, to his heaving chest and untouched cock. At Happy’s assenting nod, Peter could have cried. Tony’s hand finally wrapped around his cock as the man began fucking into him once more, holding Peter down by a hand gripping the back of his neck.

He knew himself well enough to know he got off to Tony’s praise; but Happy’s praise (if he could be so generous as to call it that) was something new. His initial horror at being watched had somehow twisted into something else, something that unfurled in his belly and shot down to his groin. The force of Tony’s hips became harsh and disorganized, and Peter moaned simply in anticipation of Tony’s impending orgasm.

Tony’s teeth sinking into hims shoulder took him by surprise, and the boy’s muscles seized as he immediately ejaculated all over the back of the passenger seat before him. Tony’s jaw clenched harshly as the man’s orgasm followed, filling Peter’s hole with come. 

The teen fell back, panting, against Tony’s chest. Tony’s arms wrapped around his middle, hugging the boy tightly. “So proud of you baby,” he praised. “Wish I could show you off all the time.”


	6. Peter Webs Tony

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two anon requests...  
> 1) Can you write something smutty where Peter webs Tony to the bed and has his way with him?  
> 2) Dom Peter tying his sub!daddy Tony to the bed and putting him through his paces, then riding him till he cries

Soon after getting involved with Tony, Peter realized something: he just loved being fucked. It was weird to admit, at first, but after that first taste of Tony’s cock inside him… he just couldn’t get enough. And Tony loved it; the man couldn’t always keep up, admittedly, but he loved taunting Peter for being such a  _ greedy slut _ _. _

Peter always enjoyed being dominated, pretending Tony could physically overpower him, hold him down, while the man fucked him into a sobbing mess. But sometimes, like tonight, Peter was itching to take control.

He was running on adrenaline from a fight with Mysterio, and strange as it may sound, his cock was _throbbing_ the whole way as he swung through Manhattan to Tony’s place. Despite the late hour, he was ultimately unsurprised to find his boyfriend in the lab.

“Tony!” he exclaimed as he bolted into the room. “Tony, I  _ need _ you.”

“Oh?” the man replied disinterestedly as he focused on the blueprints for Mark Forty-Something. 

Normally, Peter might try to slowly entice Tony away from his work. Not tonight. Tonight, he _needed_ that man’s cock buried deep inside him.

Maybe shooting a web at Tony’s wrist hadn’t been the brightest idea, as the man levelled him with a stormy glare. “What the hell, kid?”

Peter’s lips moved silently as he limply held onto the dangling thread between them. But now that he had already acted upon his instinct, he figured he may as well follow through with it. So he put on his best authoritative voice, deepening his tone, as he ordered, “Get on the floor.”

“Pete, I’m working, here.”

“Now!” the teen demanded, shooting a second web at Tony’s free wrist and giving an urgent tug.

Tony stretched out on the floor, rolling his eyes as Peter webbed his hands to the concrete. “That really necessary?” he grumbled.

Peter didn’t bother responding as he hit the arachnid on his chest to deactivate the suit. Tony’s expression rapidly switched from vague irritation to intrigued desire as Peter’s lithe body was slowly exposed. He knelt at Tony’s side, ripping away the man’s belt before tugging down his jeans and satin boxers.

He whimpered at the sight of Tony’s half-hard cock. “Daddy, I need you _so_ bad,” he pleaded.

Tony’s hips thrust leisurely into Peter’s hand. “I’m right here, baby.”

He gave a few stimulating pumps, but the unfulfilled ache in his ass refused to wait until the man was fully hard. Instead he reached back, lips pursing as he pulled out the plug he had been wearing. Tony groaned at the sight, biceps flexing as he tugging on his restraints.

“Pete, let me look at your stretched little hole,” he said.

But Peter shook his head, one leg swinging over the man’s hips. “Need you too much,” he mumbled in explanation as he sank down onto Tony’s cock. He let himself slide all the way down, the backs of his thighs resting against Tony’s hips. His back arched as he leaned over Tony’s chest, eyes falling shut and jaw slackening at the sensation of finally, truly, being  _ filled _ _. _

When Peter failed to start moving, the older man huffed. Tony’s hips began to rock in careful little circles. “Kid, you better start fucking moving.”

Peter rearranged his legs so his shins could press the man’s thighs into the floor, restricting Tony’s movement. “No.” He could feel Tony’s leg muscles twitching as he struggled against Peter’s strength.

Of course, Peter wanted to move -- desperately. But he also wanted to set his own pace for once, tired of begging Tony to go faster because the man acted like he was a fragile doll instead of an enhanced superhero.

So Peter began to fuck Tony as he had always wanted it: hard, and fast, and sloppy with need. He clung to the man’s shoulders as he bounced up and down, ramming Tony’s cock into his hole. 

“Fuck!” Tony shouted. The tendons in his neck bulged as he fought against his restraints. “Pete, shit, I want to feel you.”

Peter crushed their chests together, pressing his nose into the man’s cheek. He knew that was not what Tony meant; the man wanted to hold him by the hips and pound into him and Peter moaned at the thought of Tony’s calloused hands leaving bruises on him.

“Harder, baby,” Tony rasped. He turned his head, rubbing his nose against Peter’s cheek before swiping his tongue along the boy’s ear. “You’re doing so good, I know you can take it.”

His arms shook, the rhythm of his hips faltering momentarily as he sat up. He sank down until Tony’s balls were pressed against his ass, and both sighed in tandem at the sensation. To steady himself, he rested his hands on Tony’s chest as he began to circle his hips.

The sweat dripping down his face began to cool at the slowed pace, yet he and Tony both moaned lowly at the sensation. For Peter, as he arched his back and grinded his ass into Tony’s groin, there was an agonizing brush of the man’s cock brush against his prostate.

“Tony, Tony,” he chanted desperately as he began to hurriedly rock back and forth. Every slide of the man’s hardness inside him was fiery perfection, every strike of skin against skin. He cried out as the hits to his sensitive gland became almost too much, fingers carelessly digging into Tony’s chest.

“Sh-shit,” he stammered as he lifted one hand to wrap around his cock. One, two jerks of his hand, and it was almost overwhelming. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut against the bright lights; his ears ached from the onslaught of moans and gasps, slapping skin, the glide of precome, whirling and buzzing machinery in the background.

“Baby?” Tony’s voice was soft, hesitant even, but Peter shook his head feverishly.

“Come inside me,  _ please _ _ ,”  _ he begged, uncaring of how shaky his voice had become.

“Pete, you’re so fucking beautiful like this.”

The praise sent heat straight to Peter’s belly, coiling so tightly he thought he might burst.

He didn’t realize there were tears streaming down his burning cheeks until Tony moaned and said, “Kid, just like that, let me see you cry for daddy.”

Peter’s gasp as he came devolved into a wet, hitching cry. He slumped forward onto Tony’s chest, curling up and pressing his face beside the arc reactor. The force of his legs holding Tony down ceased, and the man pressed his heels into the floor to fuck into Peter. The overwhelming sensation didn’t last too long; Tony’s hips soon stilled as the man’s seed poured into him.

“Pete,” Tony rasped as soon as his voice returned to him. “Pete, you okay?”

Peter sniffled, rubbing his wet cheeks against the man’s chest before lifting his head. “Yeah, ‘m fine,” he answered.

Tony’s soft smile turned into a scowl as he tugged at his restraints. “Get me out of this. I want to hold you, baby boy.”

“Mm, I can’t move just yet,” Peter decided as he curled up along the man’s side. His muscles felt shaky and weak, and the solvent attached to his suit felt miles away. “Jus’ a few more minutes.”


	7. Dry Humping

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: dry humping?

Peter was a sloppy drunk.

Normally, he was ultra-aware of himself; always stammering in fear of saying the wrong thing, and flushing in embarrassment at the possibility of negative evaluation. He had thought the only time he could avoid this was in his suit, but it turned out alcohol was great at loosening his inhibitions.

A few drinks were therapeutic; enough to unwind, free from his self-doubt and anxiety. But between Thor plying him with great tankards of mead, Nat and Clint secretly giving him shots, and Tony offering him a single glass of whiskey to be consumed under his mentor’s stern gaze, Peter was plastered. And he wasn’t exactly able to hold it in for long. Ultimately, it was the sight of Peter clinging to the floor, one arm raised toward the ceiling as he proclaimed his  “ _ wall-climbing isn’t freaky at all! _ ” , that gave him away.

“Alright, kid, I’m cutting you off,” Tony announced as he bent down to help the boy stand.

“H-how’d you get on the ceiling, Mr. Stark?” Peter asked, jaw gaping in awe.

Tony sighed, muttering “I’m too old for this shit,” under his breath as he gripped Peter’s bicep and gave him a harsh tug. “You’re on the floor, Pete.”

“Woah!” Peter glanced down at the hardwood floor under his feet. “How’d I get here?”

“That’s what I’m asking myself, kid,” Tony sighed. Keeping a firm grip around the boy’s arm, Tony hauled him out of the room and down the hall. Peter wasn’t even sure what room Tony dragged him into (possibly someone’s bedroom?), before slamming the door shut and pressing Peter’s teetering body against it.

“What the hell have you been drinking, kid?” the man demanded.

“‘M sorry,” Peter apologized meekly.

“Sorry doesn’t cut it. You’re my responsibility when you’re here. If something happens, you know your aunt will dismember me, right?” 

Something about Tony lecturing him had the boy’s heart racing. “I know, Mr. Stark,” he spoke breathlessly as he fisted the man’s shirt. It was unbuttoned, leaving a delicious peek of smooth, chiseled skin. “I didn’t mean to be bad.”

Tony rolled his eyes, but his hands grasped Peter’s elbows to keep the boy steady. “Look, you’ll drink lots of water, possibly throw up in the morning, and May never needs to know. Right?”

“Mhm!” Shaking his head sent Peter spinning a little, and he found himself collapsed against Tony’s chest. “No one needs to know  _ anything, _ sir.”

“Know what, kid?” Tony pressed. One of his hands slipped from Peter’s elbow to press against the small of his back.

Peter’s eyes blatantly flickered from Tony’s dark eyes to his waiting mouth. The teen licked his lips before leaning into Tony’s ear. “Any of it, sir,” he revealed as he purposefully pressed his crotch into Tony’s thigh.

That single press was not enough; it barely put pressure on Peter’s aching cock, especially with his boxers and pants concealing him still. So he tried a few more times; really, it was little more than his feet scuffing against the ground at first as he attempted to find what felt good through his drunken haze. He refused to look up at his mentor’s expression, face burning with a cruel mixture of need and humiliation.

When Tony sighed, the sound heavy with aggravation, Peter’s stomach lurched. He was trying to get his legs to cooperate, to  _ pull away _ _ ,  _ not  _ forward _ _ , _ when Tony’s hand on his back pressed more firmly. Soon Tony was guiding him to roll his hips and,  _ wow _ _ ,  _ that was so much better than clumsily shuffling his feet.

“C’mon, then,” Tony grumbled as he stepped forward to press Peter against the door. Trapped between that and Tony’s body, Peter moaned. “Let’s get this over with.”

With great enthusiasm, Peter began to eagerly rub his hips against Tony’s thigh. He buried in face in the man’s shoulder, not to smother his desperate, reedy cries but certainly to hide inner shame as he unabashedly rutted.

“Tony, Tony,” he gasped, hands clawing at the man’s firm stomach. “I-I’ve wanted you for so,  _ ah _ _ , _ so long.”

“I know, kid,” Tony replied flatly. “Why don’t you come for me, then?”

“I’m trying!” Peter cried. Wrapping his arms around Tony’s ribs, he lifted one of his legs to hook over the man’s hip. With this position, he could well and truly hump Tony’s thigh; and he did so, keening desperately at the unfulfilling slide of cotton and denim over his crotch.

“It’s not -- please, sir, it’s not enough,” he begged into his mentor’s spit-dampened shirt.

Once more, Tony sighed; it seemed to be his favoured response tonight. But Peter couldn’t care less because there was a hand in his hair, twisting until Peter was forced to tilt his head back. And he barely had time to mourn the removal of Tony’s hand from his backside because it meant Tony’s fingers were suddenly shoving inside Peter’s mouth, undignified and uncaring, two fingers thrusting in until the boy was gagging on them.

He didn’t mean to, but Peter clamped down on Tony’s fingers hard enough to make the man swear. He couldn’t help it; his whole body seized with an impending orgasm. His face scrunched up, hands twisting in Tony’s ruined shirt, the leg hooked around the man’s hip spasming.

As he ejaculated into his boxers, Peter’s cry was muffled by Tony’s fingers. He didn’t even get to see the man’s reaction, see whether his mentor was satisfied, or disgusted, or absolutely indifferent to the pleasure Peter was riding out against his thigh.

With the alcohol still buzzing through his system, and the sudden onset of post-orgasm fatigue, Peter slumped against Tony’s body.

“Alright, time for bed,” Tony instructed as he slung the boy’s arm around his shoulder. Peter just hummed in response, letting Tony guide the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops my new kink is Tony being rather indifferent to Peter's pleasure


	8. A/B/O

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Request on tumblr: "Tony has been trying to calm Peter down for the past few days since he keeps searching for villains to fight instead of asking Tony to help him with his heat. Tony, however, likes to watch as Peter gets more and more desperate each day until Peter finally begs him to help.

There were a few traits Tony saw in Peter that he recognized in himself. Stubbornness was, by far, the most frustrating.

He appreciated the changes Peter had struggled through -- first the radioactive spider bite. Then presenting as omega. Then dealing with how to be Spider-Man, keep his identity and omega status both secret,  _ and _ be the mate of one of the richest men in the world.

But sometimes the boy was too stubborn -- even by Stark standards. Tony was well aware that Peter was going into heat, and yet the teen was out in the streets of Queens, locator disarmed, fighting crime all alone. Of course Peter’s suit included a system that would filter the teen’s scent and replace it with a beta-mimicking one. But Tony had installed it for  _ protection _ _ ,  _ not for Peter to take  _ advantage _ _. _

Nevertheless, he was entirely prepared to sit back, relax, and wait for Peter to come to _him_ _,_ begging and pleading for Tony’s cock up his dripping ass. See, Tony would not be bested by some code-hacking teen… not _twice_ _,_ at least, and so he had hidden a few backup systems that were out of Ned’s sight. No, Tony knew _exactly_ where Peter was -- not just now, but at all times. It was the only reason he ever let the feisty little omega out of his sight.

And oh… look at  _ that _ _.  _ Spider-Man had left Elmhurst and was now in Woodside. Almost like he was slowly making his way over to Manhattan. Or the Avengers Tower, more specifically.

 

By the time Peter was stumbling through the Tower, Tony was lounging on their king mattress, hands resting behind his head, the picture of perfect placidity. It was in stark contrast to his mate, who was clutching his stomach, gasping for breath beneath the now-oppressive mask.

“Tony, Tony -” Peter yanked off his mask, which was honestly a  _ terrible _ idea. Peter, of course, realized this far too late, when Tony’s alpha musk was already hitting him full on. “Oh,  _ God _ _ , _ Tony,” he groaned, one hand slamming over his nose while the other dropped to palm at his erection through the suit. 

… And any plans of further teasing the teen flew out the window. Reprimands could come later; right now, he needed to bend that kid over and fill him up. Doubtless filled with an even greater need, Peter staggered toward the bed. He didn’t even bother trying to climb up it; Tony questioned whether the boy’s legs could even support such coordinated effort. Instead he bent forward at the waist, torso slumping against the mattress, leaving his ass enticingly raised.

“Off,” Tony gruffly ordered as he pushed off the bed, coming to stand behind his young lover. Peter groaned, limbs waggling, as if under the impression the skin-tight material would slip right off. Apparently just lifting a palm to the arachnid on his chest was too much effort, so Tony leaned down, ignoring Peter’s needy whines as he blindly fumbled for the release. He was hit with the sweet, heady scent of an omega in heat as he ripped the material off Peter's slim frame. 

“Why wait so damn long?” Tony breathed against the quivering skin of the boy's naked back. His hands ran up the back of Peter's thighs, easily sliding through the wetness dripping from him.

“Hnnng uh,” came the groaned reply.

His hands stilled on his belt. “Talk to me, Petey.”

“I just -” He whined, legs splaying and hips canting back. “Tony, Tony, fuck me, please.”

Tony had to clench his teeth until his jaw ached in protest as he assumed a completely unaffected air. “Tell me, kid, and I promise I'll fill you up.”

Despite his demand, he found it near-impossible to listen to Peter's mumbled words as he ripped off his belt and forced down his jeans and boxers.

“I don't want to -- stop being a hero, just because I, _ah, n-need_ you, Tony, it hurts, please!”

“That's good, Pete,” Tony soothed as he dragged his aching cock along the slick coating the boy's thighs, gathering up the slippery fluid before pressing at the boy's entrance. “I got you now, okay?”

Peter nodded so hard, Tony thought the poor boy's head may have snapped right off if it weren't for his powers. The man intended to start off slow, as he always did, but the kid was so slick and warm, and Tony's cock sort of just - slipped right in, like it was meant to be inside, and Peter was thrusting back and moaning wildly, shaking like a needy whore.

“You're never leaving my sight again,” Tony vowed as he sank down until his stomach was flush with Peter's back. “Fuck, you're not leaving this  _ bed _ _.” _

“Yeah, yeah, okay,” Peter readily agreed. He probably would have agreed to hang his suit up forever, if Tony were to say it at the right moment. He would never, of course.

He would, however, fuck this boy until even his accelerated healing couldn't hide the limp in his gait. Using all his strength, he pushed down on Peter's hips, gluing them to the spot, so he could fuck into that sweet, tight hole at his own - brutal - rhythm. Peter cried out, and squirmed, but did nothing to break out of Tony's hold.

“Shit, shit, shit, ‘m gonna-” Peter's body seized up as he orgasmed, staining the sheets with his come and their joined legs with a sudden burst of slick. Tony groaned at the flood of heat, and the obscenely wet slapping sound now reverberating off the walls with every thrust.

“Please, Tony, can you fill me up this time?” Peter begged. “Breed me, fill me with your babies, please, daddy.”

The man groaned, burying himself to the hilt as he pressed his face into the boy's neck.  _ Fuck _ _. _ Peter was on an oral contraceptive, and they were on the same page with not wanting kids --  _ yet _ _ , _ but often times Peter lost his sense during heats. Hell, sometimes Tony was  _ tempted _ _. _ When he, too, was lost in the moment, he would be overcome by fantasies of trading the little blue pills with placebos. Fucking his mewling, begging boy until Peter really  _ was _ filled with Tony's kids. Getting to watch his stomach grow. He knew his scent would never leave the boy, then; it would linger under Peter's skin, a constant reminder of who he belonged to --

Tony was pulled from the enticing thought by an ear-piercing cry and another rush of wet heat from between Peter's legs. He had been thrusting into the boy hard and deep, forcing Peter to another orgasm. The bed sheets were soaked, and each push had the boy skittering forward.

“On your back,” Tony ordered as he forced himself to stand. When Peter failed to respond, save for a mournful keening as Tony pulled out, he slapped the boy's ass warningly. “Now, Pete.”

Peter scrambled to obey, legs shaking almost violently as he dragged himself to the middle of the bed. Tony did not pause to admire the come coating his heaving torso, or his wild, sex-mussed curls. He towered over the boy and pushed right back in, grunting in approval as Peter's legs wrapped around his neck and  _ squeezed _ _. _

He had to close his eyes at first, overwhelmed by how fucking _amazing_ Peter felt. When he could finally stand to open them, his cock ached at the sight of Peter's glistening, tear-streaked cheeks.

“Fuck, sweetie,” he murmured, laving at the salty skin with his tongue. “Goddamnit, I really want to get you pregnant, baby.”

“Promise to be good,” Peter swore, lips quivering and voice shaky with need. “Promise, I promise, I _swear, daddy,”_ he continued, as if his behaviour was the one thing holding Tony back.

And, fuck. Peter was too gone to know the difference, anyway. “Okay, baby,” he lied. He nosed at the boy's throat, filling himself with Peter's sweet musk. “Gonna fill you up now, okay? Gonna get you fat with all my babies.”

He might have been perturbed by just how quickly that statement made him come, if Peter wasn't right there with him, crying out as Tony's teeth sunk into his throat and knot filled his ass.

Coherency had barely begun to rear its ugly head, cruelly reminding Tony,  _ it's not actually going to happen _ _ ,  _ when Peter began to wriggle beneath him, thrusting his hardened cock against Tony’s stomach. The boy was in heat, after all, and that was only round one.

**Author's Note:**

> [Visit me on tumblr for more of my Starker ficlets, to submit requests, and geek out with me over these dorks.](http://airebellah.tumblr.com)


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